The Tender Truth of Loss
by LaPetiteMouse
Summary: Set around three months after the end of the Singing. The battle to defeat the dark is over, at least as far as most are concerned. However, Maerad longs for the fighting Cadvan and she can't help but shake off the feeling that something's a miss, or lost
1. The Pain of Parting

**Disclaimer: these are not my characters, they are the writer's. Please respect that. The places are also not my own but I would appreciate it if you didn't steal my plot!**

Cadvan shuddered in the cold, as he lay on the ground. His back was pressed hard up against the stony floor, and he searched all the while in his mind for sleep. It would be dangerous to light a bard fire in this place, too dangerous. So Cadvan turned his mind to other things. To Maerad.

She would be in Innail, preparing to receive the first casualties from the recent war with Enkir, with her brother Hem. She was safe, and that was what mattered.

In the distance, Cadvan could hear the cries of the distant battle echoing through the night. How close he had come to not making it. His whole body seemed to quake in nervous anticipation, so he drew his cloak around himself more thoroughly than before. He dared not think about the battle. He must rest, however difficult a prospect that may seem.

* * *

Drowsy, Maerad rubbed the ever clinging sleep from her eyes and forced her legs out of bed to face the morning. Her feet seemed to cringe as they touched the floor, for all was icy and the frost on the trees crisp. Shuddering slightly, Maerad walked across the room, drawing a fur around her as she went, to the window where she sat undisturbed. It had been two weeks since she had heard anything of Cadvan, and it had been ten days since the last casualties had been drawn through the gates, the battle was won. So why no news? Perhaps he was wondering, or helping to rebuild some of the hamlets that had been destroyed by Enkir's troops. He had to be. The alternative was too dreadful to even comprehend. Anyhow, he was brave, she reassured herself, he would be fine. He was a true Bard. He would be ok. She bit her lip, silently dreading the inevitable.

The sound of footsteps awoke Maerad from her thoughts, she stood, drawing the furs even more tightly around her so as to conceal herself from the cold blast that would surely come if the door opened. And it did. The wind that shrieked through the room was like Arkan's breath; as sharp as knives and as dangerous as well. Silvia entered her eyes red and puffy, her long hair wild about her face.

"Oh Maerad" she sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I'm so sorry." She seamed to collapse towards her, her arms wide with sorrow, but Maerad could not move. The whole world had stopped. Her breathing became faster and pain welled up in her chest. Emotion seemed to take hold of her. Tears ran down her cheeks. And then everything went black, he could not be. She would not believe it. He was everything to her, her mentor, her best friend, her figurehead, and Hem's and recently he had been so much more. This was the last that Maerad knew.

* * *

Shuddering, Maerad sat up, clutching the blankets around her shoulders like they were key to her very existence. She was in her bedroom, in Innail. She was safe. And then it all came back. He was gone. A wail escaped from her mouth and she crumpled in despair, allowing her tears to run fresh and fast down her cheeks. He could not be gone. She didn't want him to be. He was everything to her, and she to him. They were one. They were meant to be. Yet they were not. Breaking out into fresh sobs, Maerad was lost unto the world.

"Cadvan," she wailed, "Cadvan." Over and over again she cried out his name until her throat was hoarse, yet her tears kept flowing. Her hysteria was overwhelming, even to herself. She felt as if she was going to burst with misery unless someone stopped her. And someone did.

"Hush, Maerad, hush," cooed Silvia, coming to sit by Maerad's side, holding the girl's head into her bosom, "it'll be alright, you'll see." But Maerad could not see, she did not want to. For now she realized that she had needed him. He had saved her from Gilman's Cot. He was her link to all that was around her. He must always be there. No one else.

Rising like a ghost from a grave, Maerad walked steadily to her pack and picked up Queen Ardina's flute.

"Maerad, what are you doing?" Silvia asked, pleedingly, still failing to understand her charge; the girl before her. And before she could even rise, Maerad was gone from the room.

* * *

Maerad ran from the school, not wanting to look back and she felt suddenly calmer. In fact, she felt completely calm. All of her misery gone, replaced by the faintest splinter of hope. And she changed. For the first time since the defeat of Sharma, Maerad's Elidu powers seemed to take her over. She was a wolf, and she was on the hunt. She ran all day and all night for many days, not counting, for fear of having to consider the worst. In fact, she had almost forgotten herself by the time she reached the Weywood and was only reminded of her task when she realised that her mouth was full of tree, and tree was not too nice to eat. She needed food, but that could wait.

Forcing herself into human form, Maerad stood alone in the ancient forest, and she blew on the flute and she waited for what seemed to be an eternity.

At last, Maerad perceived a bright light moving through the trees. It was almost unbearable, but she stood, her hunger forgotten, so focused was she on the task ahead,

"Speak my child," commanded Queen Ardina in her own tongue.

"Is he...?" Maerad enquired, not daring to even contemplate the possibilities of the answer.

"Cadvan of Lirigon has not passed through the gates," she replied serenely, "yet he is as near them as should be contemplated by the living. Now, I command you back to Innail for all that you hold dear needs you." Flooded with relief and worry, Maerad sank slowly back into the darkness.


	2. A Plea from the Darkness

_A breath ran as cold as ice down Maerad's bare shoulders; a chill wind that spread tendrils into her very soul and turned her thoughts to snow and frost. Her whole body shook in anticipation; Arkan._

_He whirled past her at dizzying speed so that she could not follow his gaze, nor meet it. Yet she wanted him, because Cadvan had gone. And the strange thing was, Maerad did not care, she was Arkan's now, not Cadvan's, and she basked in it and her chill was gone._

_Maerad awoke, her body shuddering and convulsing. Or did she. The last thing that she remembered was the Weywood. And Ardina. The world seemed to float around her, and Maerad had no awareness of who she was, or where. She was alone, and the entire world was an empty field through which she must tread, and with care._

_Her was there, lurking just beyond her reach, a shadow of the past and present all at once._

"_Don't leave me, Cadvan," she screamed into the darkness, "Come to me." And then it stirred, a light in the distance. But then it was gone._

* *

Something stirred in Maerad's mind, a memory of something, of someone. In the distance she could hear a crowd of people, talking and bustling like the markets that Hem had described of Turbansk. She yawned loudly, and the crowd was silent. Odd, she thought.

"Maerad?" The voice was near by, concerned, why would they be concerned, she was all right, wasn't she? "Maerad, wake up," the voice was desperate now, but Maerad was comfortable. No. She did not want to move. "Maerad, please, can you hear me? Please, Maerad," it was a woman's voice, the woman sounded familiar…

"Silvia," Maerad exclaimed, sitting up abruptly and opening her eyes. She immediately wished that she hadn't, for nausea swelled up inside her as the blistering light shone into her eyes. She was violently sick over herself and uncontrollable emotion ran through her like a wave. Tears burst down her cheeks as Silvia fussed over her,

"Hush now," she cooed, swooping over Maerad and rubbing her down like mother with her child, "You'll be alright," and she pushed Maerad down onto the bed. Maerad groaned; she was so tired.

"Where am I?" she croaked, why was her throat so dry?

"In Innail, in your room," Silvia replied, concerned, "you've been out cold for over a week, we weren't sure what was wrong. Not even Hem could get through to you. We were all so worried," she conceded, her blurred head in her hands. Maerad blinked and her face came into focus. Silvia was crying silently.

"Is there any news?" Maerad asked thirstily, her voice croaking heavily under the effort, "Of Cadvan, I mean."

"Oh darling, I told you, he's dead," Silvia said softly, sitting down at the edge of Maerad's bed and softly stroking her hair off her face.

"But did they…"

"They never found his body," Silvia said, a fresh wave of emotion blowing over her features, "he was the only Bard unaccounted for, Enkir is defeated, the Dark is gone, but everything has come at such a terrible price, for you especially."

"He's not dead," Maerad whispered, rubbing her tears from her face, "if you never found his body then how can you even be certain that he was injured?"

"Maerad, why would he run?" said Silvia, almost begging her charge to believe her words as true.

"When I was out cold, I dreamt that I ran from here. I ran all of the way to the Weywood. I was a wolf, for the first time since I defeated Sharma, I was a wolf. And it was so real. I took my flute, and I played it. And Ardina came, and I spoke to her. Cadvan's not dead, Silvia. But he ventures near to the gates. Though whether out of choice, or fate, I know not." Maerad finished, begging Silvia with her eyes and tone to believe her. She was speechless, for a long time Silvia sat still as a ghost and then her lips quivered,

"Oh, Maerad, it was…"

"It was real Silvia, I know it, it was as real as you or I," in earnest Maerad pleaded, "the rest of the time, I was in a wonderland of voices, past and present. I have never been so sure Silvia. Cadvan is alive."

Silvia sat quietly at the end of the bed, watching her long sleeping charge. Maerad had drifted off in an imperceptive manner over the last hour having taken broth and water. At last, Silvia could ponder upon what Maerad had said. If it was true, then Saliman had lied to her. But what means did he serve? Hem to, thought that Cadvan was dead. Her head was spinning, she had to find her husband, and quickly to.

She sped down the corridors, but deserted as they were, Silvia could not shake off the uneasy feeling that grew inside her through every step. Left, right, left, the usually effortless journey seemed endless. Bile seemed to build up at every turn, distress rose in Silvia like a downing man. And then, everything exploded.


End file.
